The streets of Gron were alive with activity as Kalem, Lyra, Jhaeros, and Nara made their way through the bustling marketplace. The tournament had stirred the city into a frenzy, with merchants capitalizing on the excitement, selling everything from commemorative trinkets to exaggerated retellings of the final battle.
Kalem kept his hood up, not particularly in the mood for recognition. His body still ached, and though his injuries weren't severe, they were enough to remind him that he had barely walked away from that fight.
Nara, however, seemed to enjoy the attention. She grinned at a pair of commoners excitedly discussing the tournament.
"Did you see it?" one of them whispered, wide-eyed. "The way he cut through the ice? Like it wasn't even there!"
"And Lady Isolde's spell—it was like a whole storm erupted in the arena!"
Jhaeros smirked, nudging Kalem. "See? You're a legend now."
Kalem sighed. "Wonderful."
Lyra ignored the chatter around them, her focus set on the food stalls ahead. "We're getting something warm," she announced. "And Kalem, if you so much as take notes while we eat, I'll set them on fire."
Kalem frowned. "That's excessive."
"No, that's necessary," Nara cut in. "You don't even realize how bad your work habits are."
Kalem didn't argue. He wasn't about to admit it, but the past three days of rest had left him restless. The moment he had returned to the forge, his mind had drowned in calculations, designs, and potential refinements. If Lyra hadn't pulled him out of there, he likely wouldn't have stopped.
As they settled into a quieter corner of a small open-air eatery, Garrick suddenly appeared, dropping into the seat opposite Kalem.
"I figured you'd be here," he said gruffly, arms crossed.
Kalem raised an eyebrow. "You followed us?"
Garrick smirked. "Maybe. Or maybe I wanted to see if you could actually sit down and eat like a normal person." He waved over one of the servers. "Bring me whatever's hot. And make it strong."
As bowls of steaming stew and freshly baked bread were placed in front of them, Kalem reluctantly set his notebook aside. The warmth of the food was welcome, and despite himself, he found the atmosphere strangely... relaxing.
For the first time in what felt like weeks, there was no immediate danger. No matches to prepare for. No new weapon to test. Just food, conversation, and the weight of exhaustion settling into his bones.
Jhaeros broke the silence. "So, what now?"
Kalem glanced at him. "What do you mean?"
"The tournament's over. The academy hasn't even announced a winner. Everyone's waiting to see what they decide."
Kalem shrugged. "That's not really my concern. I didn't enter for the prize."
Garrick snorted. "Bullshit."
Kalem smirked. "Fine. Maybe a little. But the fight was more important."
Lyra sighed. "And what about after? You can't just keep burying yourself in work."
Kalem didn't answer immediately. He hadn't thought that far ahead. The tournament had been a challenge, a way to test himself. But now?
Jhaeros leaned back. "You know, you could take a break."
Kalem scoffed. "You're the second person to suggest that."
"Maybe that's a sign," Nara added.
Garrick chuckled. "Doubt he'd listen. Still, you're not wrong. This city's going to be buzzing for a while. Might as well enjoy it."
Kalem considered their words, staring down at his half-finished meal. Maybe, just this once, he could afford to slow down. Even if only for a little while.